


Mistress

by Tanydwr



Series: A Different All Hallows' Eve [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Different Costumes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Halloween, Over the British Age of Consent, YAHF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanydwr/pseuds/Tanydwr
Summary: The lady Buffy dressed as was far from stereotypical...Yet Another Halloween Fic.  Original characters refer to the costumed personas.(Originally posted at Twisting the Hellmouth in October 2009.)





	Mistress

Buffy bit back a growl as another girl reached the ball-gown she wanted. She sighed heavily. That wasn’t fair. As Willow and Xander headed to find their own costumes, she walked around the store, feeling bereft as she wondered was she was supposed to dress up as now. A sensation of spite ran through her as she remembered her desire to impress Angel.

 _He should be the one running after me!_ she thought angrily. No, whatever she chose would be for herself, not for him.

“May I help you?” a cultured English voice asked from behind her.

Buffy twisted suddenly, instinctively settling into a battle-stance before she checked herself. “Don’t do that!” she cried.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiled charmingly. “You seem a little out of sorts.”

“I – I was looking at the ball-gown and now I’m not sure what to dress as,” she replied hesitantly.

“Well, my dear, let me help. I won’t let any customer leave dissatisfied. I’m sure I can find something for you.”

He led Buffy towards the back of the store, where she saw yet more goodies hidden away. She opened her mouth to make a request before he stopped, a smile springing from his lips.

“Aha!” he cheered. “I have the perfect one!”

He darted into a cupboard before bringing out a gown.

Buffy gasped.

Also eighteenth century, this dress was more elegant and sophisticated than the other. Enriched satin with spiral patterning, it was an emerald green. The bodice was stiffened and decorated with an embroidered and jewelled stomacher, while the neckline was a square shape trimmed with the same white lace that fell as cuffs from the elbow-length sleeves.

“It isn’t quite accurate,” the man admitted, “since the skirt lacks the necessary hoops, but the underskirts stiffen it enough to look balanced. The hoops aren’t popular in this day and age. I hope this doesn’t –”

“I’ll take it,” Buffy interrupted. Then she coloured. “I’m sorry. I – I want it, but… there’s no way I can afford this.”

He held it up to her admiringly. “Nonsense. Just spread the word. I feel quite obliged to make you an offer you cannot refuse.”

“Thank you.” Buffy smiled.

“Not at all.”

XXXXX

Buffy had almost gone for a dark-haired wig, but, looking at her reflection now, was glad she had decided on the honey-blonde one. It lent an air of innocence to the dress that darker hair would only have made seductive. And, beautiful as she felt, seductive wasn’t her intention.

Her mother stepped in to see how she and Willow were managing.

“Oh, Buffy,” she murmured. “You look beautiful.”

Buffy grinned at her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”

Joyce bit her lip for a moment before disappearing into her bedroom. She reappeared seconds later holding a jewellery box.

“Mom?”

“This was your grandmother’s,” Joyce explained. “It’s been in my mother’s family for years, passed onto the eldest daughter when she turns twenty-one. I think you can be responsible enough to wear it for one night, though.”

She flipped open the top of the case.

Buffy gasped.

A string of tiny, elegant pearls, each identical in size and shade, from which a pendant in the shape of a spray of flowers hung. The flowers were gold set with brilliant-cut diamonds and tiny half-pearls. Buffy gulped at the expense.

“I can’t wear this out…”

“Oh, the stones are paste, honey,” Joyce assured her. That was the story, anyway, and Joyce had never thought to check otherwise. “Besides, no one would think you silly enough to go out with such expensive jewellery, and it matches the jewels on your gown beautifully.”

Buffy nodded. The bodice’s stomacher was set with tiny diamonds – presumably paste or glass – in varying floral shapes.

“Wear your pearl drops. No bracelets. Simple rings, not your bigger ones,” Joyce advised. “You look beautiful, honey. Quite the princess.”

Buffy laughed. “Thanks, Mom. Fasten it for me?”

She lifted the few loose curls of the wig for her mother to clasp the necklace about her throat. It fit with the dress perfectly.

“Let me get a camera.”

Joyce left. 

“Wills, you ready in there?” Buffy asked.

Willow appeared, looking incredibly uncertain in the midriff-baring top and mini-skirt. “I – this isn’t really me.”

“That’s the whole point,” Buffy replied with a grin. “I can’t wait for the guys to go non-verbal when they see you!”

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Xander. Come down in a minute,” the Slayer ordered. 

She picked up another inherited piece of jewellery – a gold ring wrought with a pair of snakes that she had loved as a child and been given by her grandmother – and headed downstairs, grabbing her purse on the way.

She opened the door and her jaw dropped.

“My lady,” Xander murmured smoothly, taking her hand and pressing a kiss softly to it.

“I – I – come in,” Buffy stammered before calming herself and smiling, “Lieutenant.”

Xander dropped his act and grinned. “It’s Colonel, actually,” he answered, brushing off the old-fashioned uniform. “What do you think?”

“I – how did you – what happened to ‘Two-Dollar Costume King’?” she asked, stunned.

“The guy at the shop made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Xander explained. “I am Colonel Alexander Harris, second son of the Earl of Gloucester.” He bowed extravagantly.

Buffy curtsied. “A pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I am Lady… Elizabeth Summers, daughter of the Duke of… Winchester.”

“Winchester? Like the rifle?”

“It is also a city in England,” Joyce told him, entering with a camera in hand. “Early nineteenth-century military officer, Xander?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Xander replied, offering another bow. “Where’s Willow?”

“Upstairs, wait until you see –” Buffy cut herself off as Willow appeared in her ghost outfit, before finishing disappointedly, “Casper.”

“Hey, Will, nice boo y’got there,” Xander greeted her with a smile.

“Hi,” she replied.

“You’ve got a few minutes before you have to leave. Can I have a few photos?” Joyce asked hopefully.

XXXXX

Elizabeth Morgan opened her eyes and froze. This was not the castle she was staying in on the continent. Neither her lover nor his wife was anywhere nearby. There was no child growing inside her womb, although she wore the necklace that was payment for said child. Instead, this place was alien, like nothing and nowhere she had seen before. Worse, there were creatures that only the darkest tales of the Continent or England’s ancient past could speak of.

Carefully weighing her options, she decided her best hope for survival was to get help.

So she screamed.

A second later, she screamed again as a creature that loped like an animal came towards her, growling like a wolf, jaws full of sharp teeth. She hiked up her skirts and began to run.

Power was fluttering inside her as panic started to well before she found herself running into something solid, a firm arm grasping her to prevent her falling. She processed realised he was an officer and breathed a sigh of relief, quick to turn any situation to her advantage, almost sagging in his arms.

“Milady, are you well?” he asked her. His voice was cultured and respectable. Her keen eyes noted his uniform and the symbols of his rank.

“I – Colonel, you must help me!” she cried. “There is a terrible creature following me!”

His sword came swiftly from its scabbard as the creature loped into view. However, it appeared to have some sense as the colonel came towards it, brandishing his weapon.

It fled.

Elizabeth sighed heavily. “My thanks, Colonel.” Her eyes drifted to the uncomfortable-looking, scantily-clad young woman who had arrived with him. She stiffened, ignoring the urge to smirk. “I – why keep you such… _low_ company?” she asked, taking the officer’s arm.

The girl looked offended. “I’m not! I’m not a prostitute and I’m not low! We’ve all been turned into our costumes. Your name’s Buffy Summers. You’re my best friend –”

“Am I? My name, girl, is Lady Elizabeth Morgan, and you had best remember that,” she snapped.

She felt the officer’s muscles tighten beneath her grasp. “Colonel?”

“Lady Elizabeth Morgan? I have heard of you!” He gave a sarcastic snort.

The woman’s lip curled. “Have you? I suppose they are sordid tales of my corruption and cruelty and ‘unnaturalness.’”

“Something like that.”

There was something in his voice that made her shudder delightfully, a dark, seductive tone.

“And who is my brave saviour?” she asked.

“Colonel Alexander Kingston, second son of the Earl of Gloucester,” he replied.

“Gloucester? And that is a family with nothing to hide,” she replied with a saccharine sarcasm.

“We should _really_ get to safety,” Willow urged them.

“Very well. Know you a safe haven?” Colonel Kingston asked.

“Buffy’s is closest. We should be fine there.”

They made their way towards this Buffy’s home with little interruption while the ghostly Willow babbled on about their ‘real’ identities and that they had been turned into their costumes. Elizabeth paid little attention to her, her focus entirely on the man beside her, the man who had heard of her… and seemed not to be disgusted.

When they reached Buffy’s home, however, another question came to Elizabeth’s mind.

“This world is so different… Pray, what year is this?” she demanded.

“1997.”

“So long?” Elizabeth gasped.

“What year are you from?” Willow asked curiously.

“1753,” Elizabeth answered, while Colonel Kingston gave an answer of “1803.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “You are… fifty years younger?”

“I told you I had heard of you,” he said by way of answer.

Willow told them to stay put and then disappeared in search of someone named Giles who she believed would end all of this.

It would not be for many hours that it occurred to her how foolish such an action was.

Almost as soon as she disappeared through the wall, Elizabeth rounded on the man. “What know you of me?”

He gave a shuddering laugh. “I know that you were the mistress of many different men after your husband died. I know that you were reputed to be expert in the arts of lovemaking. And it is popularly believed that you were the real mother of Lord Burhley’s child, which was conveniently born while you toured the Continent with he and his wife.”

“Yet you are not disgusted,” she observed coolly.

“Not at all,” he replied just as coolly. “You fascinate me.”

Before she could say another word, his lips were upon hers, devouring them hungrily. She gasped into his mouth before responding with the same fire. His hand crept towards her hair, tugging out the pins to let the long curls flow, his fingers tangling in them as he wrenched her head to one side. She hissed in pleasure as his mouth and tongue played upon her throat tantalisingly.

“W-why…?” she rasped brokenly.

“Because you’ve wanted this since the moment you saw me run towards you,” he replied, teeth scraping against her skin. “Because you’re Elizabeth Morgan and the other rumour about you was that you had an unnatural interest in a fictional Morgan and her arts.”

Elizabeth tilted her head to allow him to work on the front of her throat and chuckled huskily. “An unnatural interest… and talent.”

She thrust him away suddenly and golden light pooled in one palm before flashing brightly.

His eyes widened. “You _are_ unnatural.”

“Supernatural,” she corrected. “A few magic tricks, nothing special. This will ensure our protection until sunrise. I have never come across creatures such as those outside, although I have read of them. But I have always been fascinated by magic, despite the decrees of the Church.”

“The Church, with their sanctimonious ways and claims of holy war,” Alexander snorted. “They have no idea of the true horrors of war.”

Elizabeth had little idea of what he spoke, but knew he must have seen war. His eyes told much.

“Come.” She held her hands out to him. “Let us find somewhere more comfortable to pursue this course.”

He accepted her hands and she led him up the stairs. There were two rooms with beds, and Elizabeth assumed that the smaller room with pictures of her, the redhead and the Colonel belonged to her – or her host, at least.

“Such strange changes in this world,” Alexander mused.

“Indeed.”

She stood before him, smiling seductively. “Well, then, my rescuer, do you not wish to claim your reward?”

Alexander’s lips curved in a slow and dangerous smile. “I do. Strip.”

She froze at the bluntness of his command. “I – sir?”

He stepped forward, invading her space, one hand reaching behind her to undo her dress’s buttons. “I said, strip.”

Something hot and powerful welled inside her as she gasped, feeling his other hand grip her buttock firmly through her gown. He clutched her body to his and she felt the evidence of his desire. It fuelled her own.

“I need some assistance,” she told him, and turned her back, presenting her buttons to him.

He chuckled darkly and unfastened the buttons with the speed of expertise. He pushed the dress from her body eagerly, letting it pool on the floor. Before he could grasp her, she stepped out of it daintily, gathering it up, and placing it on a chair in the corner. She turned towards him, lust in her eyes, as she stood there in only chemise and petticoats. First she undid the petticoats, letting them fall to the floor and discarding them in the direction of the dress. Only her chemise remained. Instead of letting it fall, however, her hands pulled up the hem, caressing her thighs as she slid each stocking and garter from her body, finally joining them with her small clothes.

“I am naked beneath this,” she told him, and admired the effect her words had on him. He had pulled off his sword belt, but retained the rest of his uniform. She realised he wanted to take her naked while he was fully clothed, no doubt the soldier in him. She stepped forward, letting one strap of her chemise slip down her shoulder and bringing his hand to the bare breast it revealed. “Tell me what you wish me to do, to say,” she whispered, her breath caressing his skin. “Command me.”

Her words were his undoing. He tore the blankets from the bed and flung her upon them, yanking the chemise from her body. His hands undid his trousers as he kissed her savagely. A dark glimmer shone in his eyes as he tore his lips away.

“Beg me for mercy,” he ordered.

Elizabeth was used to men’s quirks. Her husband had been the first. He liked his women to enjoy sex – and once they did, then his fantasies and perversities came to play. Since then, she had become the consummate actress within and without a man’s bed.

“Please…” she murmured, hands grappling for escape. “Stop.”

He dragged her legs apart, hands pinning her wrists to the pillows. His mouth travelled down her body, kissing and licking and biting, enjoying each feigned cry and every real moan. Her legs struggled about his body, and he stopped them with one sharp thrust inside her.

He had not expected to meet that temporary resistance. Neither had she, from the confused look on her face. In that moment, they realised they were playing games with others’ bodies… But those bodies were so like their own.

“Go on,” Elizabeth ordered. The girl had muscles to die for as she squeezed his manhood and Alexander could do nothing but continue.

The game changed. It was every bit as lustful, but she was meant to enjoy it. She was meant to stop begging for mercy and begin begging for him to let her climax. And she did.

He fucked her with a skill she had rarely encountered, a passionate longing, and she responded in kind. She shrieked his name as they crested together and he slid out of her.

“That,” she gasped, “was incredible.”

He nodded. “I – my host – I believe he has feelings for yours.”

Elizabeth stared for a moment, before acknowledging his point. “Mine… I don’t think she knows I can hear her. She considers… Hmm, your host is also named Alexander. She considers him a close friend. She has rejected him in favour of…” her eyes widened and she looked disgusted. “A vampire! Good God Almighty, has the girl lost her mind? Well…” she paused, smirking, “her opinions are changing. She has been denying an attraction to your host – in favour of the spectral Willow, apparently. She fears tainting him.”

Alexander gave a dark chuckle. “I do not know why, but I have a feeling that this Xander’s soul is already tainted.”

“Perhaps she needs a little more persuading, though,” Elizabeth mused.

Alexander raised a brow as she began to undo his jacket, divesting him of his clothes with her own expertise.

“This time,” she ordered, “make love.”

He obeyed.

XXXXX

The spell ended some time while they slept and they woke in the night to each other’s naked forms.

“X-Xander? What are – What’re you doing in my bed? Naked? Naked in my bed?” Buffy demanded.

Xander stared at her for a moment. “I – I don’t…”

Then memory washed over them and they exchanged horrified looks.

“Oh my God…”

“Buffy, I’m so sorry!”

Buffy looked at him, frowning. “What? Why? I – well – considering I practically _threw_ myself at you –”

“It wasn’t you –”

“Elizabeth could hear me… she… Oh God.” Buffy looked slightly sick. “How could I – what we did…”

Xander drew her close, wrapping her in his strong arms as she cried. “Not our fault. We’ll be okay. I promise.”

“But I remember… Everything she did, Xander. She… oh God, she was sex-obsessed! And the – the magic. Not a lot, but enough. I – what am I supposed to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m liking things I’ve never done! Is that me? Is she somehow now part of me?”

“I don’t know. But,” here he smiled weakly, “my fencing skills have improved.”

Buffy laughed. That smile reached into his soul and beckoned the darkness and desire and before he could stop himself, Xander had kissed her. Buffy stopped in surprise, and then kissed back.

He broke it first. “I’m sorry, I –”

“Shouldn’t have done that?” Buffy asked. “Xand, you’re naked in bed with me.”

The sheer absurdity of the situation hit them and they began to laugh until they could barely stop, falling back into the bed. Only when they stopped did Xander realise that his hand was cupping Buffy’s breast and that her thigh was pressing against a forming erection. He stopped sharply, looking embarrassed.

Buffy’s fingers halted his hand as it moved away, cupping it around her breast as she moved closer to him. Her eyes bored into his.

“Want did Alexander mean when he said that your soul was already tainted?” she asked.

“I – what do you know about my family?”

“Scum of the Earth?” Buffy asked. “I know that your parents never seem to notice you and you’ve turned up to school with bruises more than once. That’s why you’re so willing to patrol with us.”

He blinked at her. “That’s more than anyone but Jesse ever noticed.”

Buffy frowned. “But Willow –”

“I never let her see. It wasn’t so bad when I was a kid. When I got older and Dad began to drink more as his prospects got worse… It’s not often, but when he _does_ notice me, it’s not fun. The relatives aren’t bad, but… Alcohol and Harrises are a bad combination,” he explained. He gave a bitter smile. “Of course, now I also have the memories of the French Wars stuck inside my head not to mention the fact that Colonel Kingston had some pretty twisted sexual fetishes himself.”

“There’s something else,” Buffy realised, gazing at him. “Something more. Darker.”

Xander gulped. “I lied.”

“About?”

“I remember everything the hyena did. To you, to Willow… I just couldn’t face it. Couldn’t let it ruin… everything,” Xander explained, shame-facedly. “What I did – what I nearly did to you…”

Buffy’s mind went back to that day in the teacher’s lounge, Xander’s face wearing that unnatural grin, his body straddling hers, hitting him over the head with a desk… She swallowed.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Xander asked, and the fear in his voice made her heart ache.

“I do. I promise. It wasn’t your fault. Just like this wasn’t either of our faults.”

“Where do we go from here?” Xander asked her. Without realising it, his thumb began to stroke her nipple.

Buffy bit her lip. Whatever they did now, was up to her. Angel would be hurt, Willow would be hurt… But something inside her was telling her to think about her initial feelings. The attraction that had to be cut off due to Willow’s claim of territory… But _she_ had been marked as Xander’s territory now. His scent was all over her. Memories of their joining swept over her, coupled with Elizabeth’s disgust at the idea of a vampire lover, soul or not…

She closed her eyes, remembered the day she died, Xander’s voice begging her to live, Angel’s giving up, Xander’s lips breathing life into her…

Her eyes snapped open and she made her choice.

She straddled Xander, clutching his wrists to the pillow as she gave a feral growl. “Now we see what happens with _you_ begging for mercy.”

XXXXX

They woke up to the sun’s ray streaming through Buffy’s window irritably. Buffy moved in her bed, startled to notice the male presence, and then remembered very suddenly what had happened.

“Shit, Xander, get up!” she ordered sharply.

“W-what?” he asked with a yawn.

“Mom was out last night, but she’ll be back soon. Get some clothes on and I’ll make it look like you slept on the couch.”

Buffy pulled on her dressing gown and ran into the hallway with Xander’s jacket, boots and sword. She pulled pillows and linen from the spare room and sprinted downstairs to make up the couch and then muss it worthily of Xander’s sleeping there. She dumped the boots beside it and the jacket and sword on the nearby chair.

When she returned upstairs, Xander’s clothes had disappeared from her room and the shower was running. She opened her window to air her room and straightened her bed. She’d have to wash the sheets at some point, but immediately after a boy stayed over would make her mother really suspicious. Xander shut off the shower and appeared looking rumpled, but less obviously sexed in the shirt and trousers of his officer ensemble.

“Go make yourself something to eat. If Mom arrives, act natural and apologise profusely. She likes you. If we’re lucky, I’ll just get a reprimand for not letting her know that a boy was staying in the house.”

He nodded and Buffy slipped into the shower.

As she did, she had one question.

Just what had happened to leave her hair a foot longer than it had been before?

XXXXX

It seemed they actually got away with it. At least until that afternoon when they met in the library. Angel, it seemed, had decided to attend.

“What happened?” he asked. “When I arrived at Buffy’s, I couldn’t get in.”

“Oh,” Buffy blushed, “it seems Lady Elizabeth had some magical talent. Not a lot, and she wasn’t familiar with much by way of monsters. She _really_ didn’t like vampires though. I can’t work out if she’d read of them or met one.”

“Lady Elizabeth?” Giles queried.

“Lady Elizabeth Morgan,” Willow answered, “and Xander was Colonel Alexander Kingston. Lady Elizabeth was from 1753 and Colonel Kingston from 1803. Both seemed to think I was a – a –”

“Prostitute?” Buffy finished boldly. “I’m sorry, Willow. But in my defence, by modern standards, you just looked hot.”

Willow blushed.

“So you – she – this Elizabeth Morgan –” Giles stopped and stared. “Good God, _the_ Lady Elizabeth Morgan?”

“Hmm?”

“Buffy, Lady Elizabeth Morgan was infamous for her – her –”

“Sexual appetite?” Buffy replied. “Oh, and I can confirm that it _was_ her child that was passed off as Lord and Lady Burhley’s. Of course, it was _Lord_ Burhley’s.”

“But how?” Giles asked. “The spell wasn’t that specific surely, and your dress couldn’t have belonged to her.”

“I think it was my necklace,” Buffy mused. “Mom said it’s been in her family for years. Elizabeth recognised it as part of the payment for her giving up her child.” Then her eyes widened. “Holy crap, d’you think that means what I think it means?”

“You would have to do a great deal of research to discover if you and your mother were descended from Lady Morgan, Buffy,” Giles replied. “Anyway, this, er, this magic? It protected your house?”

“Stopped anyone getting in or out until sunrise,” Buffy confirmed. “She was trying to protect us.”

“That being yourself and Xander?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And – and you, Xander?”

“What?”

“Anything to add?”

“I now have some details about the French Wars stuck in my head that I would really rather not remember, fencing skills and certain… uh, knowledge, but I’m fine,” Xander replied.

Giles looked between the two of them suspiciously. “And you remained at Buffy’s overnight?”

“Kipped on the couch.”

“Alexander Kingston, second son of the Earl of Gloucester?” Angel asked suddenly.

Xander rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_. Why?”

Angel’s lip curled. “I remember meeting him. He was a cold bastard.”

“Pretty much. But it must have been after the time I remember. I – he thought it was 1803.”

Angel stared between him and Buffy for a long moment. “You slept together, didn’t you?”

“ _What_?” Buffy screeched.

“C’mon, Buffy, you spent the night as one of the most sexually-charged and dangerous noblewomen of the eighteenth century with a man who was reported to have mistresses for every day of the week!” Angel snapped.

“And if we did?” Buffy asked, her voice sharp and cold.

Angel stared at her for a long moment, and then left.

Willow was looking between them uncomfortably. “I – you –”

“I don’t think this is the time or place for this conversation,” Buffy suggested, glancing sideways at Giles.

“No,” Giles agreed fervently, wiping his glasses. “Buffy, you need to patrol this evening. Otherwise, I think we can adjourn this meeting.”

The three Scoobies walked out in silence.

They were in a park by the time Willow spoke. “You slept together as you, didn’t you?”

“I – we… I didn’t mean to hurt you, Willow,” Buffy murmured. “I just… With everything in my head… You have no idea what it’s like. I just know… I know I can’t go back to Angel, and I know that Xander can be my match.”

“But you knew!”

“Willow,” Xander murmured, taking her hands in his, brown eyes meeting hazel, “Willow, I have to be honest. You’re my best friend. But I’ve never felt about you that way. And now… With Alexander there in my mind, his words, his, his perversions – I’m not the person you love anymore. There’s a darkness in me, and I won’t taint you with it. Besides,” he gave a weak grin, “I happen to know that there’s someone else interested.”

Willow looked down and then up, startled by this last piece of information. “Who?”

“Not sure. I just heard a few murmurs that someone is. You’ll have to find out the old-fashioned way,” he told her, smiling.

“But I –” She looked between them. “You’re my best friends. But I – I can’t do this.”

She left them. Xander clasped one of Buffy’s small hands in her own and looked down at her.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait a few weeks before telling my mom we’re dating.”

XXXXX

“You have the payment?” Ethan Rayne asked hopefully.

“Your methods leave much to be desired,” an accented male voice informed him. “But your results are excellent, despite other loss of life.”

Ethan grinned as he felt the wad of fat notes in his hand. “I can only do what’s in my nature. But the Slayer and her boy… Very well suited. With such memories, they can only continue to cause chaos wherever they go.”

“And Angelus will continue to suffer.”

“Exactly. A pleasure doing business with the Kalderesh.”

“And with you, Ethan Rayne.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lady Elizabeth Morgan and Colonel Alexander Kingston are entirely original, and may spring to life in original form (or, at the least, as historical gossip) in an original work some day.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this. There is no sequel - it was mostly just an opportunity to play with characters and find a somewhat unlikely method of preventing Angelus getting loose (especially if you go with the 'it wasn't just the sex, it was Buffy giving Angel her virginity' that broke the curse theory).
> 
> If the rating can go down to Mature, let me know - I am erring on the side of caution. Equally, if I need to tag the Underage warning, please let me know - it's a bit tricky since at 16/17, they're considered over the age of consent in the UK, but underage in California, so I'm not sure how it applies.


End file.
